


Revelation

by theDeadTree



Series: GreedFall Oneshots & Scene Collections [1]
Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 09:04:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20757836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theDeadTree/pseuds/theDeadTree
Summary: He suddenly found himself in a position where he was forced to question everything he’d ever known about himself.Sometimes, truth hurts.





	Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> So, like. I kind of adore this mess of a game. So. Damn. Much. And since I have no impulse control, here we are.

He’d been gone all night.

At first, they hadn’t been worried – he could look after himself, and they were all confident he would return in his own time. Or at least, that was what Kurt had insisted; that he had a lot to process and the best thing to do was to simply leave him be, to let him work through it all in his own time.

Síora hadn’t been entirely sure if she believed that, but she had seen the logic in Kurt’s words, and let it be. But as time passed, as the sun set and night took hold without any sign of his return, they all began to fear for him. Ultimately, even Kurt decided that it had been too long, and they agreed to spend the night searching for him. Which was precisely why she was out here, wandering the woods alone, lagging from exhaustion but never stopping, praying to all the spirits of the island that she would not stumble across his corpse.

How long had she been looking for him? It must’ve been hours now. In truth, she wasn’t sure he would ever go this far out of his city, on his own. And still, she searched anyway, following what she hoped was his tracks as they led her ever closer to the coast. She could hear it; the waves hitting the shore, the call of various sea birds as dawn drew nearer. She could taste the salt in the air, and feel the icy breeze on her skin. She might’ve even been able to see it, had she torn her gaze away from the ground for even a moment.

Everything had happened so quickly.

Just a few days ago, she’d been carefully watching him, watching his face twist into an agonised expression the moment he recognised the seal in his hands, watching him in shock as he told her that his own people had been the ones to nearly annihilate hers all that time ago. Just a few days ago, she’d been staring at him, struggling to reconcile what she knew of the legend and what she knew of him. Struggling to connect him – the man who listened to her, who had helped her save her sister, who helped her retrieve the remains of her _mother_ from the renaigse, who went out of his way to comfort her as she was grieving – to the stories of endless greed and brutality. She’d been completely at a loss. All she could do at the time was stare wordlessly, wondering how people with such a terrible legacy could come to give birth to someone so unambiguously good.

As it turned out, they hadn’t. Whatever goodness the lugeid blau – this _Congregation,_ as he called it – had, they’d stolen.

She still wasn’t sure what to make of it. There had barely been any time to process it. And in reality, he was a victim, same as her. More so, in many ways. He’d been displaced, lied to about who and what he was, taught to be someone he wasn’t, taught to venerate a culture he should never have been part of. They’d broken him down, moulded him into something he was never supposed to be, changed him until they destroyed everything he was, and made him into one of their own, to use for their own benefit, little more than a weapon crafted to fight and subjugate his own people.

It was so much information, all at once. The story seemed to shift to something new every few days, to the point it was becoming almost impossible to keep up with. All she knew was that she was _angry_ – for him, for what happened, for what they did to him. For the countless abuses he’d suffered unknowingly; not as outright brutal, but just as dark and all the more insidious.

She shook her head then, trying to banish those thoughts from her mind. Now wasn’t the time for anger, however justified. She needed to find him, first. She needed to make sure he was alright, that he was alive. She needed to do everything she could, track him as best she was able. No one else in their little group knew the island like she did, after all. So she kept moving, her eyes scanning over every single indent in the dirt, tracing over anything that could possibly be his tracks. Every part of her felt heavy, almost numb, as exhaustion gnawed at what seemed like her entire being, but she didn’t stop. She’d been up all night, and until she found him, until she _knew,_ she couldn’t stop.

It was then she saw it – a little ways from her, right on the shore, she spotted the silhouette of a young man perched atop a large boulder, staring aimlessly out to sea.

In that moment, all her energy suddenly came rushing back, and she found herself scrambling over the rocks in a frantic bid to join him where he was. Relief flooded through her now that she saw him, alive and unharmed. Of course he would be fine, he always was. He knew how to take care of himself. She never should have doubted him.

“On ol menawí,” she called out, wanting to make her presence known to him as she got close, in the vain hope that he wouldn’t simply flee at the sight of her.

He turned, twisting his body around just enough to be able to see her in his peripheral vision. For so long, Síora simply remained there, stock still, waiting to see how he would react. Waiting to see if he would try to run, again.

Instead, he simply turned back to the ocean, never saying a single word.

Tentatively, she clambered up onto the boulder, her movements slow and deliberate. And when he didn’t move, she got a little closer. Slowly, jerkily, she inched her way towards him, like she would when approaching a wounded and scared animal… and there seemed to be more truth to that comparison than she wanted to admit.

“Síora,” he greeted her, his voice strangely flat and emotionless, after what felt like an eternity of silence. “How did you find me?”

She pursed her lips slightly at that. “I was searching for you.”

The corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly then, with what might’ve been the beginning of a real smile, but it was gone as soon as it came, replaced with a small, pained grimace which had become so familiar to her recently.

Part of her wanted to yell at him – wanted to _scream_ at him – for making her worry, for disappearing without a word, for staying out this long on his own without ever letting anyone know where he was going. Instead, she simply stood there, silent as she watched him, suddenly lost for words. She didn’t know what to say anymore. She didn’t think there was anything she _could_ say.

“Are you alright?”

She winced the instant the question left her, already knowing the answer.

He let out a strange, breathless chuckle and turned his head away, staring off in the opposite direction in some clear effort to avoid having to look at her.

“No,” he whispered, his voice quiet and strained. “I don’t know.”

There didn’t seem to be anything to say to that. He certainly seemed to show no real interest in continuing the conversation. Síora waited for a moment, wishing she had an answer.

Slowly, she sank down, crouching beside him and casting her gaze out to sea, at the sky that was quickly growing lighter by the second as the sun rose. There didn’t seem to be anything else she could do, other than simply be there, with him. That, more than anything else, seemed to be what he needed most.

“I don’t _know,”_ he repeated suddenly, causing Síora to jump slightly in surprise. “I’m so… I don’t know. I’m confused, I think. Is that- …how am I _supposed_ to feel?”

She didn’t meet his eye. “I don’t know.”

He laughed again – a breathless and entirely hysterical shout of bitter laughter that sounded nothing like him and sent cold shivers up Síora’s spine.

“We could have grown up together,” he mumbled, staring idly out to sea still. “Can you imagine? If it hadn’t- …we might have known each other. What would it have been like? What would _I_ be like?”

It was an odd thought to have, but Síora couldn’t blame him for asking. He suddenly found himself in a position where he was forced to question everything he’d ever known about himself. It came as no surprise to her that he was doing exactly that.

“Or I would’ve been a Naut,” he continued, talking mostly to himself now, his knuckles whitening as his hands furled into tight fists. “The admiral said I was born on a ship, so I must’ve- _…why_ did they _lie_ to me?”

His voice cracked with that final question, and Síora caught a brief glimpse of tears welling up in his eyes before his head snapped away, anxious to hide his face from her, like he was terrified of displaying anything that could be interpreted as weakness.

“I just… I _just…”_ he managed in between shaky breaths, “this makes _no sense._ I can’t be- …I’m not…”

He trailed off into an awkward silence, his chest heaving as he struggled to process everything he’d learned over the past few days; as he struggled to keep up with an ever-changing story.

Slowly, carefully, she reached out, just enough gently place her hand on his. The instant they made contact, she saw him stiffen, though he didn’t pull away.

“I know you are sad because you were lied to,” she murmured, her voice low and barely audible, though she was certain he heard her. “But don’t be sad because of who you _are.”_

For the first time since she’d found him, he fully met her gaze, his eyes still full of fear, pain, and confusion, but the faintest hint of a small smile pulling at his lips. For so long, Síora watched him back, her eyes unwavering as she tried to reassure him.

“We are a proud people,” she continued quietly, squeezing his hand a little. “And I am _glad_ to know that you are one of us, on ol menawí.”


End file.
